Batman: Headless
by MaskedScifiFan
Summary: A new vigilante has revealed himself to Gotham City. Known as the Headless Horseman, he rides through the night on his black horse, killing and stealing the heads of any criminals he finds. Now, Batman must uncover the Horseman's true identity before he can kill again.
1. I

"Though many years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet I question whether I should not still find the same trees and the same families vegetating in its sheltered bosom."

- Washington Irving

**I**

Another sleepless night. Another night out on the city. Alfred has been insisting that I try getting more rest. Says it would be good for me. But not tonight. Tonight, I have a duty to fulfill. I speed down the darkened streets, past the damp alleys and abandoned buildings. The light of the moon shines down on me as pouring rain pounds against the windshield. I keep my eyes on the road as an officer yells on the radio.

"All units! Victor Zsasz has sealed himself inside Gotham Mercy Hospital! He may have hostages with him! Approach with extreme caution!"

_ Mercy Hospital._

I make a hard turn left and quickly get onto the freeway. I listen to the police radio as I make my way to the Burnley District.

"All units, all units! Zsasz is confirmed to be holding hostages! Make no sudden movements! Repeat! Make no sudden movements!"

Victor Zsasz and a few other prisoners recently escaped from Arkham Asylum. I suspected that some of the guards had been bribed into letting them break out. And I was right. Since that night, I've been listening intently for any leads as to where Zsasz and the others might be. And now I've got one.

I weave through the lanes of traffic without hitting any cars. Most of the drivers see me ahead of time and move out of the way. Not surprising. With a vehicle as conspicuous as mine, it's not hard for even the most jaded driver to notice it. After a few minutes, I reach the exit leading to the Burnley District. I make another hard turn and head back onto the main road.

_ Stay focused. Mercy Hospital._

Eventually, I reach my destination. I decrease my speed and take a moment to observe the scene.

_ Squad cars lined up in the front. Better go in the back._

I discretely park in the back of the hospital without being seen. I get out and stand on the wet pavement of the parking lot. The storm clouds are covering the moon now. And the entire area is dead silent as everyone waits with baited breath for the situation to be resolved. I feel myself getting tired again. I rub my eyes.

_ Focus. People could die in there._

I walk up to the back of the hospital and look up at the nearest window. I reach into my belt and pull out a grappling gun. The gun gives a slight kick as the line shoots up to the window. The hook taps the glass and latches onto the ledge. I hold onto the end of the line and scale up the wall until I reach the window. I peak inside to scope out the room.

_ One of the patient rooms. No one inside._

I put away the grappling gun and pull out a small blade. I use it to cut a hole in the window glass and enter the room. I crouch down and slowly peak out from the door.

_ The hallways are empty. Zsasz must've gathered them all in another room._

I silently maneuver through the halls, listening for any signs of life. Suddenly, I hear voices coming from behind one of the doors. I put my head against the door and try listening to what they're saying. I hear two voices. Both male. One loud and frightened, the other calm and collected.

"Please...please don't..."

"Why are you afraid? You should be happy to be freed from your useless life. Tell me, doctor. Are you satisfied with what you do?"

"Y-yes...I...I help people who are hurt..."

"But is it really worth it? We are all going to die someday. Why not embrace death rather than avoid it? Death is a gift, doctor. A gift that I will now give to you."

I subtly move the handle on the door to see if it's locked. It isn't. I wait and listen for the right time to enter.

"No...no please...I..."

"Hush, little baby. I will make your pain go away."

The victim starts to hyperventilate. I decide to make my move.

"I'll just make one tiny cut right here..."

I burst through the door and face the source of the noise. I see Zsasz holding a small knife to a young doctor's throat. The doctor's face is drenched in sweat, his eyes staring in horror at the blade grazing his neck. Zsasz quickly turns to me, looks me in the eyes for a second, and pulls the doctor close to him.

"Stay back, Batman! Unless you would like this man's blood on your hands. I know I certainly would."

I keep my distance in order to not provoke him. I try talking to him while I discretely feel through the gadgets in my belt.

"Listen, Victor. This man has a job. A family. He has things to live for. You only kill those who have nothing in their lives."

He tightens his grip on both the knife and the doctor.

"You know nothing about me, Batman. I seek to liberate the pathetic zombies slinking about the surface of this meaningless world. There is nothing to live for. There is no reason for us to exist. And that is why I am here. To free us from the shackles of our mundane existences."

He talks just long enough for me to find one of the batarangs in my belt. As soon as he looks away from me, I quickly pull it out and throw it at his head. The projectile hits his face and knocks him on the floor, allowing the doctor to escape his grasp.

While the doctor makes his way to safety, Zsasz gets back up and starts running down the hall. I pick up the batarang and start chasing after him. He tries losing me in the crowd of hostages escaping the building. But I don't lose him. I never lose my prey.

He makes it to one of the back doors and tries leaving the hospital. I throw another batarang at his legs to slow him down, but he avoids it and runs out the door. I grab the batarang and follow him back out into the rainy parking lot. I take a moment to observe my surroundings. I look for Zsasz among the many cars left sitting in the drenched parking spaces. Suddenly, I hear him yelling out as if he was in a panic.

"No...you mustn't...no...no!"

I follow the cries of fear to a large white truck resting at the very edge of the parking lot. Suddenly, Zsasz lets out a blood-curdling scream I've never heard him make before. I run to the source of the scream behind the truck. And then, I see it.

Zsasz's body. Laying on the ground. I look up and see a large figure standing over him. The moonlight breaks through the clouds, allowing me to see the figure in full. A tall man mounting a black horse, wearing a dark cloak, and carrying a long sword in his belt. I look closer and notice that the man has no head. The headless man faces me. He holds up his left hand with something in its palm. I see what he is holding; Zsasz's head, bloody and ripped from his body. I find myself unable to look away from the head's empty, lifeless gaze. Then, as he puts the dismembered head in one of his cloak pockets, the headless man speaks to me in a deep, raspy voice.

"I am the dominant spirit."

Suddenly, the man kicks his horse, causing it to rear up on its hind legs, and then ride off into the night. I stand there, gazing at the figure fleeing from the scene for a moment or two. Once he leaves my sight, I turn my attention back to Zsasz. I kneel down onto the pavement to study his corpse.

_His head has been taken clean off. No visible injuries on the rest of the body, other than the ones that were already there._

I move my arms under his body and lift him up off the ground.

_If I bring his body to the police myself, they'll think I killed him. I'll leave it in the hospital for them to find once they get inside._

I start walking back to the hospital with Zsasz's bleeding corpse. The rain mixes with his blood and falls onto the pavement as he lies cold in my arms.

_ I let him die._

...


	2. II

"A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere."

-Washington Irving

**II**

_Where are you?_

I speed through the streets of the Burnley District, searching for the headless man on the black horse. The lights on my vehicle shine brightly from all sides, giving me a clear view of my surroundings.

_Nothing. How can a headless man on a horse be so hard to find?_

I get a call on the communicator in my cowl. It's Alfred.

"Master Bruce, you have been out for almost two hours now. Don't you think you should continue your search for this man tomorrow?"

"If I wait until tomorrow, he could relocate to another district. Or even to another city. The fact of the matter is that I know where he is **now**. And I have to take advantage of that."

"But you can't possibly stay out until morning, sir! Civilians and police are bound to see you driving around in that behemoth of a vehicle eventually."

"Just humor me, Alfred. I'll keep searching until one in the morning. And if I don't see him by then, I'll pack it in for the night."

He sighs.

"Very well then. I will see to it that your bed is ready for you by the time you return."

He hangs up.

_Sorry, Alfred. But this is too important for me to give up on now._

Sometimes, I wonder what it must be like to be in Alfred's position. Having to wait every night for a rich playboy dressed like a bat to come back from his nightly crusades. And having to worry whether or not the man he's supposed to be protecting will return with a bullet in his chest or a knife in his back. Sometimes, I try putting myself in that position. And other times, I even wonder if I should try making these outings less frequent. But then, something will come up that makes me put all that aside for the sake of the people in danger.

Suddenly, I feel myself dozing off. I shake my head and try to stay awake.

_Focus. Focus on the search._

I turn on the radio on the dashboard. I turn up the volume so the music will keep me alert. A rock song is playing. The lead singer bellows the chorus lines.

"Listen for the feet as they pound the land to a tune of thunder! Watch as the legions ride again to a fate of death or torture!"

_Not usually my type of music. But for this particular circumstance, it'll do fine._

I keep my eyes focused on my surroundings for a good ten minutes. And then, I start to doze off again. Only this time, when I open my eyes, I find myself heading straight for a street light. I make a desperate turn left and just barely miss the pole. I look down at the clock on the dashboard. 12:34 AM.

_Alfred may have had a point about staying out this late._

I take one more good look around my vehicle.

_I can't ignore this anymore. Time to head in._

I make a right turn at the next intersection and start heading out of the Burnley District. I keep going west until I leave the buildings and enter the forest. I head deeper and deeper into the dark woods until I reach a steep cliff with a waterfall over the side. Most people know not to drive straight into a waterfall. But I know different. I maintain my predetermined course until the vehicle is drenched in pouring river water. Upon exiting the water, I find myself back in the comforts of my private cave.

I drive up a ramp leading to a round, metal platform and park right there. As soon as I get out of the vehicle, the platform holding it sinks down into the cave floor, keeping it protected until it needs to be used again. Alfred greets me at the gate leading to the rest of the cave.

"Ah! Master Bruce. I see you are back earlier than you originally intended."

"I was dozing off. Almost hit a street light. Just need some rest and I'll be ready to start looking for the headless man again."

Alfred walks with me as I start heading for the glass case that holds my suit.

"I told you all those sleepless nights would take their toll on you eventually, sir. Just remember that if you need anything, I'll be right here."

"I'll be fine, Alfred. You should think about packing it in for the night, too."

"Oh no, sir! It will take me at least a few hours to dry your suit and gadgets. So I'm afraid I will just have to march on until morning. But that should not be any of your concern. You should just focus on resting. Oh, and do try to resist getting up at four in the morning to do your usual training routine. Doing so would only permit you a solid three hours of sleep at the most."

"Thanks, Alfred. I'll keep that in mind."

"I would certainly hope so, Master Bruce."

_Alright. I'll just get up at five in the morning this time._

...


	3. III

"However wide awake they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin to grow imaginative-to dream dreams, and see apparitions."

- Washington Irving

**III**

I squint my eyes as they focus on the computer screen. My pupils are still adjusting to the light. I finish reading the profile on the screen and go on to the next one. I start reading it from the top.

_Margaret Sawyer. Head of the GCPD Major Crimes Unit. Reported to be in another district at the time of the hostage situation at Mercy Hospital. Couldn't have been her._

Just as I go to click on the next profile, I hear him.

"Master Bruce! It is six in the morning! You really should be resting in bed!"

I take a sip from the cup of coffee on the table next to me.

"I did rest, Alfred. Now I need to get back to work."

Alfred walks over to computer. I can feel him glaring at me.

"You have worked enough! Your body needs relaxation in order for it to be effective out in the field!"

"I'm not using my body right now, Alfred. I'm sitting at a computer."

"You know what I mean! Please, sir. I am begging you. Go back to bed."

"In a minute. I just have to finish reading these."

I go to the next profile and start skimming through it.

_Nick Gage. Detective on the Major Crimes Unit. Reported to be on break at the time of the hostage situation. Not him._

"Master Bruce, could you at least inform me as to what you are doing?"

I take another sip of coffee.

"I'm looking through the profiles of different GCPD members. Seeing which one of them could've been the headless man."

"Wait a second! You're just assuming that a member of the GCPD was behind this?! I know some of them can be corrupt but..."

"Just think about it, Alfred. The fact that Zsasz was in Mercy Hospital was never released to the public. Only the police knew about it. One of them could have..."

"Found a sword, disguised their head, and learned how to ride a horse in the span of about thirty minutes? That is quite a stretch in logic, sir. Even for you."

"I'm not saying it was in the spur of the moment. They could've been planning it for months and just waited until the crisis at Mercy Hospital to make their first appearance. I'm not stretching, Alfred. I'm just considering every possibility."

"Yes, but usually one would start with the most common or obvious of possibilities before jumping straight to the unusual ones."

"Alfred. Since when are the cases I investigate anything but unusual?"

"Ah. I see your point."

I can hear the sarcasm in his voice.

"Look. The headless man didn't just kill Zsasz. He took his head. Like a trophy. Whoever this person is, I highly doubt that they wouldn't kill again. That's why I have to find them as soon as possible."

"If only you would put this same amount of determination into relaxing once in a while."

"I'll relax when this murderer is off the streets."

"If I had a nickel for every time you've said that, I could finally retire."

Suddenly, the police radio transmitter in my computer turns on. I hear a familiar voice coming from it.

"Attention all units! This is Detective Bullock! My associates and I just had Daedalus Boch aka Doodlebug in our custody! But one of the officers, I think his name is Sanford, just took Boch away from us and is now driving away with him in his squad car! My boys and I are chasing Sanford and Boch right now on Birmingham Drive! I think they might be heading for the bridge!"

_Doodlebug. Another of the escapees from Arkham Asylum._

I get up from the computer to go put on my suit. But Alfred stands in front of me.

"Don't you even think about it! Harvey Bullock just called his fellow officers for backup. He does **not** need your assistance. And besides, you still need to get some rest!"

"I won't be gone long. I'll take the batmobile and apprehend Doodlebug as quickly as I can."

I walk past him. He calls to me as I go to the case holding my suit.

"But what about how much you were dozing off before?! Aren't you afraid you'll have the same problem once you go out there again?"

I answer him as I start taking out the suit.

"I just finished my third cup of coffee. I'll be awake enough."

"Enough?!"

I look towards him and continue talking as I slip on the legs and torso.

"Trust me, Alfred. If anything goes wrong, I'll come right back to the cave."

He sighs and holds his head for a second.

"You have no idea how much I worry about you when you're out there."

I start putting on the cowl and belt.

"I do. And I'm telling you that you have nothing to worry about."

"We will see, Master Bruce."

I make the final adjustments on the suit and start heading towards the platform that holds the batmobile.

"Just...please be careful, sir."

"I'm always careful, Alfred."

"Hmph. Indeed. As careful as a black-clad vigilante fighting psychotic serial killers can be."

...


	4. IV

"Far below him, the Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the land."

- Washington Irving

**IV**

"Hey, watch it!"

I just barely dodge a pedestrian as the batmobile speeds down Tarry Avenue. I have my sight set on the exit leading to the front of the Gotham City bridge. As I get closer, I look to my side and see the drivers next to me staring in bewilderment.

_Can't blame them for being surprised. I don't usually come out during the day, let alone at seven in the morning._

I turn onto the exit and see the bridge up ahead, along with a line of police cars going onto it.

_Those must be Detective Bullock's men, chasing down Doodlebug and that rogue cop._

Despite the heavy traffic, I manage to enter the bridge and squeeze into the lane next to the squad cars. I step on the gas and start speeding past the officers. I get a good look at most of them. The expressions on their faces range from frightened to annoyed.

_Most members of the GCPD still aren't big fans of me, especially the ones following Bullock's lead. _

I look up ahead and see that they're all following an old, beat-up squad car that's furiously honking its horn.

_Yep. That's Bullock._

I look up further and see that he's hot on the tail of another squad car.

_I assume that's Doodlebug's escape car._

I gain more speed and eventually catch up to Bullock as we continue further across the bridge. He looks over to me, squints his eyes, shakes his head, and looks back to the car ahead of us, as if to try and ignore that I'm there.

_Sorry, Harvey. But I'm here whether you like it or not._

I try to get a good look at the inside of the rogue squad car. I see a young white male in a police uniform at the steering wheel, with a long-haired African American male sitting in the passenger seat.

_That looks like Doodlebug to me. Why would an officer be helping him escape? Maybe he was bribed. Or blackmailed._

Suddenly, I see Doodlebug roll down his window with something in his left hand. He drops a pile of small, sharp-looking objects onto the pavement in front of Bullock's car.

_Tire tacks._

The tacks immediately take effect, popping Bullock's tires and causing him to spin out of control. I see him struggle in the driver's seat as he crashes into the railing on the side of the bridge. I make a hard right turn in the direction of his crashed car. I pull up next to him as he starts climbing out from the wreckage. He looks straight at me while holding his bloodied leg. And in the midst of his apparent struggle, he points at the escaping squad car and yells over to me.

"GO! Whaddaya waitin' for?!"

I stare at his injury for a second or two, and then speed away after the car.

_It's pointless to try arguing with Harvey._

As I drive away, I see some of his men pulling up next to him and helping him out. I can tell that he's frustrated by the way he's yelling at them.

_Even when in pain, he's still the same old Bullock. Then again, maybe after that incident with the KGBeast a little while ago, he's started growing more accustomed to serious injuries._

I push the batmobile's speeds to the limit to catch up with Doodlebug and his accomplice. Eventually, I pull up alongside them as we approach the center of the bridge. Then suddenly, the police officer at the wheel rolls down his window and pulls out a gun. He starts firing rounds of bullets at the batmobile's tires. I try lightly bumping into their car to disarm him. But the officer remains calm and continues his shooting spree until one of the tires catches fire. The tire then quickly gives out and disrupts the vehicle's movement. As the officer and Doodlebug start speeding away, I immediately reach into my belt, pull out a tracer, and throw it at the back of their car. Luckily, it attaches to the bumper just as they get out of reach.

Suddenly, I feel myself losing control of the batmobile. And then, the next thing I know, I'm heading right for the edge of the bridge. The thin railing does nothing to stop the heavy vehicle from tumbling over the side and into the water below.

_Keep calm. Remember your training._

...


	5. V

"To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours..."

- Washington Irving

**V**

I feel the sun shining down on me as I limp onto shore. I'd managed to escape from the batmobile before it sank into the ocean.

_Lucius isn't going to like this._

I take a moment to stand in the sand and let the sunlight dry my drenched suit. I hear the sounds of seagulls flying overhead and the tides hitting against the shore. While my suit dries, I reach into my belt and pull out a small radar. It shows a red dot moving about half a mile away from me.

_There's the tracer. It'll lead me right to Doodlebug._

And then, the communicator goes off.

"Master Bruce! Are you alright?!"

I hold up my cowl to hear him better.

"I'm fine, Alfred. Just...had a slight accident."

"A slight accident?! You call almost drowning a slight accident?"

"How did you know...?"

"I called you a few minutes ago and heard you struggling in the water. I tried getting your attention, but the line cut out! Are you hurt? Is the batmobile damaged?"

"The batmobile is gone. It sank into the ocean after I fell off the bridge."

"You fell off the...?!"

"Relax. I was able to get out in time."

He pauses for a second and sighs to himself.

"Well, at least you aren't drowning at the bottom of the sea right now. So, I take it the two gentleman you were chasing managed to escape capture?"

"For now. But right before I fell off, I placed a tracer on the bumper of their car. Now I can track them to wherever they're escaping to."

"Wait a minute, sir. You are not...seriously considering going after them **now**, are you? After you've just crashed the batmobile and escaped near death?"

"They aren't that far away. If I hurry, I'll catch up to them in no time."

"Master Bruce, you cannot be serious! You just fell off a bridge for god's sake! There is no telling what sorts of internal injuries you may have..."

"I'm trained to sense those kinds of injuries. I'm fine. Catching Doodlebug and his accomplice won't take long. Trust me."

"You will be doing no such thing! You will tell me where you are right now so I can pick you up and take you back to Wayne Manor! As your guardian, I forbid you from continuing this pursuit until you have made a full..."

I switch off the communicator.

_I'll rest later. Right now, I have a job to do._

I keep the radar out and start making my way towards the tracer. I stay on the edge of the city so no one sees me. I trek past dozens of buildings and abandoned fields. My eyes remain focused on the radar's red beacon as I bare the pains running through my lower body. Luckily, Doodlebug's car eventually stops moving and parks a few hundred feet away from me. After following the signal for a few more minutes, I finally reach their car. I notice that it's parked in front of a familiar looking warehouse.

_That's one of Arnold Wesker's old warehouses. What would Doodlebug be doing here?_

I make my way over to the building without being seen. I sneak over to the back and look through one of the broken windows. I see a large group of men surrounding Doodlebug and the rogue officer. And then, I notice one of the men walking up to them. The man is wearing a fancy white suit. His skin is pure white and his head appears to look like a skull.

_I've seen him before. He's Louis Ferryman, aka "Bone." A mid-tier gangster in Gotham's criminal underworld._

I see Bone conversing with the cop who helped Doodlebug escape custody. All of a sudden, the officer grabs his face and starts...pulling off his skin. The skin rips off like paper and falls on the floor along with the police uniform. Once all the skin has been taken off, I see that the imposter is completely red underneath with a skeleton-like body.

_Jane Doe. Another of the escapees from Arkham Asylum. Known for wearing her victims' skins and assuming their identities. Bone here must've hired her to pose as an officer and help Doodlebug escape._

That's when I decide to make my move. I reach into the belt and pull out a smoke bomb. I throw the bomb through the broken window and it lands right along the outside of the group. As thick, white smoke quickly fills the warehouse, I hear the sounds of heavy coughing and confused shouting coming from the pack of goons. I reach inside the cowl and switch on the night vision so I can see through the smoke. With the night vision on, I jump off from the window and run into the massive cloud.

_This should be easy._

I start taking out the men one at a time. One of them tries to attack me, but his cough causes him to fumble, allowing me to knock him out with one punch. Two others try to sneak up on me from behind. Nobody sneaks up on me. I grab them and knock their heads together before they can move. I work my way through every last one of them until I get to their boss. As the smoke finally clears, Bone runs up to me with a butcher knife and starts swinging it at me. I dodge the first few swings and then knock the blade out of his hand. I kick him to the ground and go to finish him off, but Doodlebug runs up to me and stabs my leg. I stutter back for a second as blood pours onto the ground. Then Jane Doe grabs Bone's butcher knife and comes at me with it. As I avoid her attacks, I see Doodlebug drawing with my spilt blood on the floor like fingerpaints. Eventually, I manage to get enough hits on Jane Doe to knock her back against a wall. While she's recovering, I walk past Doodlebug and approach Bone.

"I thought you learned your lesson last time we met, Ferryman."

"Hey. A crime boss has gotta keep up his appearances, ya know?"

"You're not a crime boss. You're a crony. No less so than all these goons you had standing around here. And you're gonna be treated no better than them in Blackgate."

Suddenly, I hear a scream come from behind me, accompanied by the sickening sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh. A sound I was all too familiar with. I turn around and see him. The headless man. Mounting his horse in the back of the warehouse with Jane Doe's bloody head in his hand. I look over and see her beheaded body, lying on the floor.

_How...how did I not hear him?_

I see the man hold out his bloody sword and focus his attention on Doodlebug. He kicks the horse's sides, causing it to gallop forward towards Doodlebug. But Doodlebug is too occupied with his painting to even notice. I start to run forward in an attempt to stop him, but by then, the deed is already done. The headless man now holds Doodlebug's head as well. Suddenly, as the man is putting the two heads inside his cloak pockets, Bone runs up to him with another knife and stabs the horse in the side of its neck. The horse rears back and cries in pain, knocking Bone onto the floor with its reared-up front legs. The headless man then gets off the horse, walks over to Bone, and picks him up by his throat. As Bone tries to struggle in his strong grasp, I run up to the two and try to stop the inevitable execution. But the headless man quickly reacts, forcibly hitting me in the face with his free hand and knocking me back. As I try to get back up, the man pulls out his sword once again...and decapitates Bone. His white body and skull-shaped head fall to the ground, and the man gets back on his horse. For a moment, the headless man stops to observe the injury on his horse's neck, and then caresses its mane of black hair in a gentle manner. As he's tending to the animal, I manage to regain my footing. He then gives another kick, and they start riding away.

_Not this time._

I gather myself up and begin chasing the headless man and his horse. They get outside the warehouse and continue down the street. I keep pursuing them until a sharp, searing pain encompasses my leg. In the moment, I'm forced to stop in my tracks and kneel down on the ground.

_The stab wound..._

I see blood still pouring from the injury, and then I begin to feel light-headed. Noticing that I've lost a copious amount of blood, I crawl into a small alley where no one can see me. And then, as I lay there in agony, I turn on the communicator and speak between gasps of pain.

"Alfred...corner of...Stern and Murphy...hurry..."

I pass out.

...


	6. VI

"A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose."

- Washington Irving

**VI**

I open my eyes. I see the ceiling of my bedroom.

_The headless man...the..._

I shake my head and look to my left side. I notice the window on the wall and see that it's dark outside.

_How...how long..._

I use my arms to help me sit up in the bed. The thick sheets fall off me as I look around the dark room. I turn to my right and see the clock on the nightstand. 10:05 PM.

_I've been out for hours..._

I try getting up out of bed, but a sharp pain shoots through my leg. I look down and see a white cast around it.

"Ah. Finally awake, I see."

Alfred walks through the bedroom door with a tray in his hands.

"Care for a refreshment?"

He sits down next to me on the bed and places the tray on the nightstand. There's a tea kettle, some small cups, and an assortment of crackers on it.

"Thanks, Alfred."

I reach over and pour some tea from the kettle into one of the cups. I take a sip of the tea and rub my eyes.

"How long has it been?"

"Well, let's see. It took me about two hours to both stop the flow of blood and fully apply the cast. And you have been up here sleeping since then. So I would say that you have been unconscious for approximately...14 hours and 27 minutes in total."

I finish the tea and place the cup back on the tray.

"So is this the rest and relaxation you were hoping I would get?"

"Well, in a way, yes. Only...I wish it had been under less stressful circumstances."

I pick up a cracker and quickly eat it.

"Pardon me sir, but isn't it more common to drink the tea **after** consuming the dry cracker?"

"Only you would pay attention to the order that I eat snacks in, Alfred."

"Just trying to make conversation, Master Bruce. Or would you rather go back to sleep?"

I make myself another cup of tea and sip from it.

"To be honest, I'd rather get back to work."

"And how do you intend to do that with a broken leg?"

I finish the tea and put the cup back.

"Just because I can't walk doesn't mean I can't investigate. The headless man came out in the sunlight to kill Doodlebug and a few other criminals that were with him."

"And did the sunlight, by any chance, help you to see this man better?"

"Not really. I still have no idea who he is or how he does what he does. All I know is that he uses a sword to decapitate his victims, and then steals their heads."

"Hmm. From the sound of it, I would say this man has some kind of psychological compulsion to punish the corrupt. Sound familiar, Master Bruce?"

"This isn't a time for jokes, Alfred. Every moment I sit here doing nothing is an opportunity for the headless man to cause more deaths. I need to go over the suspects again."

"I am sorry to state the obvious but, you will not be able to go to your computer and investigate them as long as your leg is immobilized."

"How did you get me in this room?"

"A wheelchair, sir."

"Well, there you go then."

He gives a small sigh.

"Do you wish to have any more refreshments before I go?"

"No thanks."

"Very well then. I shall retrieve the wheelchair immediately. You just sit tight until I return."

He stands up, picks up the tray, and leaves the bedroom.

_I've had enough rest for one day._

...


	7. VII

"He would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by...a woman."

- Washington Irving

**VII**

The next day. 9:03 in the morning. I'd been up all night looking through the list of suspects.

_Let's see what's on the news._

I pick up the remote control laying on the couch. I press the power button and the large flatscreen television turns on. Jack Ryder's morning talk show is on.

"So Dr. Yatz, you really think these "nanocells" of yours can help the people of Gotham?"

"Absolutely. My revolutionary new therapy is the next step in medical research, repairing damage to the body on a cellular level."

"Really? Well, if you ask **me** doctor, this method of healing may come a little too close to the goals of stem-cell research. Care to give your thoughts on this matter?"

_Jack Ryder. Going out of his way to cause controversy. What a creep._

I start flipping through the channels to get to the morning news. I find it and leave it on the channel. Alfred walks into the living room with something in his hands.

"I brought the morning paper for you, sir."

He lays the stack of papers on the couch beside me.

"Thanks, Alfred."

As the weatherman is giving today's forecast on the news, I pick up the newspapers and see the article on the front page. The title is splashed across the page in bold, black ink.

**Headless Horseman Sighted in Downtown Gotham! Three Decapitated Bodies Found, Only One Head Recovered!**

_Looks like our headless friend made the news. _

I stop and look at the title again.

_Wait a minute..._

I start reading through the article, trying to find all the details of the crime scene. Alfred walks up to me as I'm reading.

"You seem to be invested in that particular story, Master Bruce."

"There's something odd about this. The "headless horseman" decapitated three criminals that day; Jane Doe, Doodlebug, and Bone. But according to this article, only Bone's head was found at the crime scene. Why would the horseman only take two of his victims' heads?"

"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea, sir. Perhaps there is a connection between those two convicts?"

I think for a second, and then it hits me.

"Doodlebug and Jane Doe were both escapees from Arkham Asylum, while Bone escaped from Blackgate."

"Hmm. Are you suggesting that this horseman could somehow be involved with Arkham Asylum?"

"I don't know. It's just a theory. For all I know, that could just be a coincidence, and the horseman took their heads for a completely different reason. But still, a lead is a lead."

Suddenly, the news is interrupted by an emergency broadcast.

"This is Vicki Vale reporting live from Gotham's Amusement Mile. At this moment, two escaped prisoners from Arkham Asylum, Amygdala and Lunkhead, are rampaging through the abandoned park, destroying everything in their paths. I can see lines of GCPD squad cars lining up along the border of the park, with a few officers firing at the fugitives. We'll keep you updated as this scene unfolds."

"That is certainly unfortunate. Hopefully, the GCPD will be able to get that situation under control."

I move off the couch and get back in my wheelchair. I wheel it over to one of the living room cabinets and reach into one of my pockets.

"May I ask what you are doing, sir?"

I pull out a key and use it to unlock the cabinet. Upon opening it, I see a large, metal brace laying inside.

"What in the world is that?"

I pull out the brace, open it up, and fit it over my injured leg. The brace automatically tightens, and I push myself up from the wheelchair. Almost immediately, I find that I'm able to walk again.

I see Alfred staring at me with a surprised look on his face.

"How in..."

"I had Lucius build this for me in case I was ever injured during a mission."

"Why did you not tell me about this before? I could have put it on you myself!"

"It's still in the prototype phase. I didn't want to use it unless I absolutely **had** to. And now, I do."

I start making my way towards the entrance to the Batcave. But Alfred stops me.

"Master Bruce, what do you think you are doing?!"

"The GCPD isn't going to be enough to stop Lunkhead and Amygdala."

"You are still recovering from your injury! Even if you can walk again, your body is still not ready for intense combat!"

"I've fought through worse, Alfred. And I won't let myself get hurt like last time."

"Even if you **are** up to it, how are you going to get there without the Batmobile? You may recall that it fell off the bridge and sank into the water during your last excursion."

"I'll use the Batwing until Lucius can build me a new one. Don't worry, Alfred. I'll be..."

"You'll be fine! I know, I know. I've heard it all before. But recently it seems like every time you think you'll be safe, you end up with a massive, crippling injury that **most** people would allow to heal!"

We stand there for a minute or two, staring at each other. Eventually, he stops and looks down.

"Just go. I know I cannot stop you."

He turns away from me and stares at the floor. I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Alfred, I promise. Nothing will happen to me."

For a moment, he remains silent. And then he responds.

"If only I could believe that."

I take my hand off of him and start going into the Batcave.

_I promise._

...


	8. VIII

"In the centre of the road stood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark."

- Washington Irving

**VIII**

_More rain. Wonderful._

I keep my eyes on the radar as the batwing soars through the sky. I look down through the cockpit window to catch a glimpse of the roads below me. I see a few ambulances weaving through the morning traffic in the direction of Amusement Mile.

_Lunkhead and Amygdala must be causing more damage than I thought._

I press even harder on the engine to increase the batwing's speed. Eventually, I notice an array of red and blue lights flashing below me.

_I've reached the drop-off point._

I press the eject button under the arm of the cockpit chair. Once the cockpit lifts open, I fly out of the jet like a bullet from a gun barrel. I feel the wind blowing in my face as I go up into the sky. And as the batwing's autopilot starts taking it back to the Batcave, I allow gravity to take its course.

_Maybe this'll wake me up._

I stare straight downwards into the lights below as I fall towards Amusement Mile. In my head, I keep track of how close I am to the ground.

_1,500 feet...1,460...1,420..._

I prepare the extension device built into my cape.

_1,350...1,310..._

I get my finger on the switch.

_1,270...1,240..._

I see the squad cars below.

_1,200._

I press the switch and the cape expands into a glider. I allow the wind to gently carry me towards the ground as I'm drenched by the pouring rain. I continue to count in my head.

_1,100...1,090..._

I squint my eyes to see what's happening. Right away, I notice two large figures throwing objects at a group of squad cars.

_1,070...1,060..._

Suddenly, one of the figures looks straight at me.

_1,050..._

And then, I see him throw one of the objects in my direction.

_Shit._

The large rock hits the bottom of my cape, causing the glider to break and sending me crashing down into the pavement below. I feel the wet mud splash against my face as I collide with the ground. I fold my cape back and try to get back up. But the minute I look up, I see a muscular man with reddish skin scowling at me.

_Amygdala._

"Go away, Batman!"

Amygdala charges at me with his teeth showing. I quickly jump to the side and just barely dodge his attack. He trips on the wet dirt and falls on his back. He shouts at me as he struggles to stand back up.

"You're a jerk, Batman! Why don't you just leave me alone?!"

"I will as soon as you start cooperating with the authorities."

"Shut up! I hate you!"

He goes for another charge. Only this time, I throw a batarang at his face. Once again, he falls on the ground. And I hear him moaning as he holds his bleeding nose. Suddenly, I hear large footsteps coming up from behind me.

"Lunkhead make you dead!"

I put my reflexes to work and leap over the massive figure running up to me. I land behind him, and he quickly turns around to face me. I see his scrunched-up face and the large bump on his forehead.

"Lunkhead no go back to Arkham! Lunkhead kill Batman!"

"Batman stop Lunkhead."

"Batman make fun of Lunkhead?! Lunkhead hurt you!"

He charges again. I jump to the side by Amygdala to retrieve my batarang. As I place it in my belt, they both regain themselves and focus on me. Amygdala goes for me again with blood running from his nose. And Lunkhead follows close behind him.

"Enough!"

I throw a smoke bomb down and the impact temporarily blinds them both. But as I reach for a grappling hook to tie them up, I hear the loud cry of a horse in the distance.

_No._

I turn around and see the Headless Horseman riding towards the scene. Before I can react, he leaps from his black horse with his sword outstretched. He lands on Amygdala and plunges the sword through his head. As blood pours from the wound, the Horseman makes a few quick slices across the front and sides of his neck. And then, he pulls Amygdala's head off as his lifeless body collapses on the ground. As he places the severed head in his cloak pocket, I run up to him with my fists bared. I try to get a punch on him, but he grabs my hand and starts twisting my arm. All I can do is fall to my knees in pain and stare at him. He leans in and speaks to me in a whispering tone.

"I am the master."

All of a sudden, Lunkhead runs up to us with his arms outstretched. But the Horseman, while maintaining his grip on my arm, uses his other arm to grab Lunkhead's throat and force him to fall on his knees. He silently examines Lunkhead as he struggles to breathe through the tight grip on his neck.

"You are not one."

And with that, he crushes Lunkhead's throat and allows his dead corpse to fall on the ground. The Horseman then turns back to me with his grip still firm on my arm.

"You will not interfere."

He releases his grip and kicks me square in the chest. I feel three of my ribs break as I fall in the mud. Looking down at me, the Horseman secures Amygdala's head in his cloak and gets back on his horse. I see a line of police officers blocking his path with their guns aimed at him. But he kicks the horse's sides and forces it to leap over the officers. As they run after him, I manage to get back up and crawl over to an abandoned merry-go-round. I press a button on my glove and a beacon starts going off.

_The batwing should be here soon. I need medical attention._

...


	9. IX

"On the bank of a broad part of the brook...was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close behind it a shattered pumpkin."

- Washington Irving

**IX**

"Why am I not surprised?"

Alfred pours a glass of water and places it on the table next to the painkillers.

"Just take those regularly for the next four weeks and you should be fine."

"Thanks, Alfred."

I put the painkillers in my mouth and swallow them with a sip of water. Then I get back to the computer.

"It doesn't make any sense. Lunkhead was from Arkham. Why didn't the Horseman take **his** head along with Amygdala's?"

"I am afraid I haven't the slightest idea, sir."

I scroll through the profiles of Arkham Asylum's many patients, looking for the ones that the Horseman had decapitated. I find them each one at a time.

_Mr. Zsasz. Doodlebug. Jane Doe. Amygdala._

"There has to be a connection here."

I skim through the texts detailing their backgrounds and histories, looking for a common factor.

"Find anything, sir?"

"Not yet..."

I take another sip of water and look back at the screen. I click on the patients' medical histories and scroll through all the doctors and psychologists who have tended to them over the years. And then, I find it.

"That's it."

"What is it, Master Bruce?"

"I've found a connection between all the patients the Horseman has beheaded. Not only were they all from Arkham Asylum, but at one point during their incarcerations, they were all looked after by one person."

"Who, sir?"

I put his profile picture up on the screen.

"Dr. Jonathan Crane."

Alfred looks at Crane's unnerving mugshot and stutters back in fright.

"Oh my..."

I click the image away and go right to his profile.

"According to this database, Dr. Crane secretly tested out his fear gas on all of his patients before being relieved of his position at the Asylum."

"So you're suggesting that this Horseman may have a connection to the good doctor there?"

"It's definitely a possibility. I should investigate this further."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"By talking to Jonathan Crane."

Alfred does a double-take while I have another sip of water.

"Sir? I beg your pardon but, Jonathan Crane has been missing for months. How exactly do you plan on speaking with him?"

"Just a week ago, I got a lead on a man who might know where Crane is. And I just so happen to know his favorite hangout spot."

I get up from the computer and start walking up to my bedroom.

"Where are you going, sir?"

"To my room. I have to get ready for tonight. I'm going to the Iceberg Lounge."

"The Iceberg Lounge? Master Bruce, are you not aware of your reputation in the criminal underworld? I doubt the security there would allow you to go inside and have a drink."

"You're right. Bruce Wayne can't enter the Iceberg Lounge. But Matches Malone **can**."

...


	10. X

"An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces."

- Washington Irving

**X**

**ICEBERG LOUNGE**.

The giant white letters present themselves over the entrance to the notorious nightclub. A line of about 30 people is waiting to be let in by the bouncer at the front door.

_Pretty sure I'm on the list. If not, I'll have to resort to other means of getting in._

Watching from afar and keeping out of sight, I put on a fake mustache and a pair of sunglasses. Then I adjust my green shirt and orange tie before heading towards the entrance. I push through the line of people as they start yelling and cursing at me. Eventually, I reach the bouncer and talk to him in my best North Jersey accent.

"Matches Malone."

The large, black man pulls out his clipboard and pretends to study it. Then he puts it away and looks down at me.

"Sorry. Not on the list."

I reach into my back pocket and pull out a stack of 50 dollar bills. I show it to him.

"You sure 'bout that?"

He grabs the wad of money and looks it over. Then he puts the bills in his pocket and stands to the side.

"Alright. Go ahead."

I give him a nod and smile and enter the lounge.

_Just as extravagant as I remember._

The inside of the club looks like an aquarium, with blue-tinted walls and a small pool in the center of the floor. The guests are dancing to the sounds of the jazz band playing on the stage. And along the edges of the main floor are rows of dinner tables. I make my way to the old bartender as he's cleaning some of the wine glasses. I take a seat in front of him and lean in to ask him a question.

"I'm lookin' for Jocko-Boy Vanzetti. Know where he is?"

He looks up at me.

"Jocko-Boy, eh? Last I checked, he was over there somewhere."

He points over to the rows of dinner tables.

"Thanks."

I get up from my seat and start walking towards the tables. I look over all the guests in that area until I find the man I'm looking for.

_There he is._

I see a brown-haired white man in a brown coat, talking it up with two other men at one of the four-person tables.

_Franco "Jocko-Boy" Vanzetti. A well-known con artist wanted for multiple cases of fraud and money laundering._

I approach Jocko-Boy's table and call over to him. The minute he sees me, his face brightens up and he starts coming towards me.

"Hey hey! Matches! How ya doin'?"

I shake his hand and he walks me over to the table. I take a seat next to him.

"So how's life been treatin' ya?"

I answer him while keeping up the accent.

"Not bad I'd say. And you?"

He chuckles to himself.

"Man, I haven't felt **this** good in a **long** time. A **real long** time. And ya know **why**?"

I shake my head.

"'Cause **I** just hit the goddamn **jackpot**! The goddamn **jackpot**! I **ripped off** some old **geyser** in the **higher ups**! And **now** I'm goddamn **rich**!"

He laughs triumphantly and takes a sip from his beer bottle.

"So I take it you ain't squanderin' for cash?"

He slams down the bottle and looks at me with a big grin on his face.

"**Not at all**, Matchy boy! **Not at all**! I'm as **endowed** as Vicki Vale's **ass**! I hit the goddamn **jackpot**!"

_Alright. I get it already._

I decide to get to the point.

"So Jocko-Boy, I heard you had a run in with the Scarecrow."

Jocko-Boy's eyes widen and he slyly nods his head.

"Oh yeah, yeah. I did. He needed some **shelter** from the **cops**. So I **gave** him a **hotel** **room** for about **five** **grand**! Can you **believe** that?! **Five** **grand**! What a **sap**!"

He takes another sip of beer.

"Just outta curiosity, where is this hotel room?"

He puts down the bottle and rubs his hairy chin.

"**Pretty sure** it was one o' the old **rooms** in the **Brideshead Hotel**. **Way** in the **back**."

He chuckles to himself and starts chugging down the rest of the bottle. While he's drinking, I pretend to answer my cell phone. I keep it close to my ear for a few seconds and then put it away.

"Sorry Jocko-Boy, but I gotta go. Got some business to take care of."

Jocko-Boy slurs his words as he speaks to me.

"**Alright**, buddy...good **luck** out there...Heard the..."

He hiccups.

"Heard the **Batman** is out there...people say he's been **runnin' **around the** city**...laughin' like a goddamn **hyena**...heh heh...heh..."

He passes out in the midst of his drunken stupor. I pat him on the back.

"Thanks, Jocko."

I get up from my seat and take my leave.

_Brideshead Hotel._

...


	11. XI

"He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together."

- Washington Irving

**XI**

"And what if you do not find Dr. Crane in this hotel, Master Bruce?"

I hold the communicator closer to my mouth so Alfred can hear me.

"Then I'll have to rethink this entire investigation. So hopefully, Jocko-Boy wasn't lying."

"Or drunk."

"Or drunk."

"Well, if anything goes haywire, you just let me know and I will assist you in any way possible."

"Thanks, Alfred. I'll check in with you later."

I reach into the cowl and switch off the communicator. As I lay perched on the roof of a tall building, I look down at the streets below.

_Brideshead. A hellhole if I ever saw one._

The neighborhood was broken down and decayed from years of neglect. And numerous instances of gang violence discouraged even the most daring tourists from visiting it. I look to my left and see an old, white building at the corner of Kyle and Bracuda.

_The Brideshead Hotel. Time to pay the doctor a visit._

I spread my cape and descend towards the ground. I catch enough wind to glide towards my destination. The windows on the hotel appear dark and lifeless as I prepare to land inside one of them. I position my legs and try to balance myself on the wind.

_Easy…_

As soon as I reach one of the windows, I hear a loud crash and feel bits of glass flying in my face. Luckily, I manage to land on my feet inside the hotel room. I stand up and brush the glass bits off of my costume.

_Let's hope no one heard that._

The room is so dark I can barely make out my surroundings. But luckily, there's enough light for me to see the door a few feet in front of me. I walk over to the door and crack it open. The hallway on the other side is barely lit by the flickering ceiling lights. I wait in the doorway for a few seconds and listen for any sounds.

_I don't hear anyone._

I exit the hotel room and start making my way towards the back of the building. As I walk past all the rooms, I keep an eye out for anyone in the halls.

_If I didn't know better, I'd say this place was completely abandoned._

After fifteen minutes of pure silence and darkness, I finally reach the back of the hotel. I keep my ears open for any sounds coming from the rooms. And then, I hear one.

"There. It's almost finished."

I turn in the direction of the sound and see a sealed-off door. I observe the lock as I continue to listen to the voice coming from inside.

"Soon, this will be ready for use."

I pull out a lock pick from my belt and use it to quietly unlock the door. I open it just a crack and peek inside the room. The first thing I see is a slim man with messy black hair, brown baggy clothes, and a noose tied around his neck leaning over a table.

"No one can stop the Scarecrow."

I open the door all the way and stand in the doorway.

"Not even the Batman."

"Really?"

He jumps back from the table and looks straight at me.

"Hello, Crane."

In a split second, he grabs something off the table and throws it at me. I jump to the left as an explosion of green gas forms right next to me. Crane makes a run for a nearby window, but I catch up to him and grab his arms. He tries struggling in my grasp, so I take his head and smash it against the window. The impact leaves a crack in the glass as Crane's unconscious body falls to the ground. I look behind me and see the gas coming towards us.

_Fear gas, I assume._

Recalling my past encounters with Crane, I pull out a chemically-altered smoke bomb and throw it into the green cloud. The gas immediately begins to dissipate.

_The properties of the smoke should cancel out the fear gas._

Once the gas is completely gone, I turn my attention back to Jonathan Crane, still lying on the floor. I pick up his body and walk over to the table. It's covered with beakers, test tubes, and other materials used for creating chemicals. With one quick motion, I clear all of the equipment off the table and slam Crane's body on top. The impact causes him to wake up. I keep a tight grip on his torso as he starts screaming in terror.

"Get off of me! Now!"

I slam his head on the table to shut him up.

"I just want to ask you a few questions, Crane."

"No! You want to take me back to Arkham! I won't go back there! I…"

"No one's taking you anywhere. Just give me what I want and you'll be fine."

"You…what do you want?!"

I lean in closely and look him straight in the eyes.

"Tell me what you know about the Horseman."

"Horseman? The…the one in the papers?"

"That's the one."

"Wh…What in God's name makes you think I know anything about **that**?!"

"He's been decapitating escaped patients from Arkham Asylum. But only the ones that **you** worked on in the past. Care to explain?"

"I…I don't know! Aren't **you** the detective here?!"

"Just humor me. Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you? Anyone who you might've hurt in the past?"

He gives an ironic laugh.

"After doing this for so many years, do you really expect me to remember **every** poor fool that I've hurt in the process?!"

I slam his head again.

"Just give me some names! Now!"

Once I realize I've knocked him out, I release my grip.

_Damn it. If I hit him like that again, it might cause brain damage. I'll have to wait for him to wake up. And until then, I'll take him somewhere where he'll be more inclined to talk._

…


	12. XII

"Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, but did ample justice to every dainty."

-Washington Irving

**XII**

Standing on top of the old bell tower, I wait for Dr. Crane to wake up. After a few minutes, he finally starts to come to. I see his eyelids flutter open and his head move from side to side. He stares down at the streets below for a second or two, and then looks up at me holding his foot. He starts screaming as soon as he realizes the position he's in.

"Enjoy your nap, doctor?"

"RELEASE ME! NOW!"

"Are you sure about that? Because from what I can tell, we're at least 40 meters above the ground."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!?"

"The identity of the Horseman."

"I already told you! I don't…"

"Whoever it is has it out for you. Start naming people who you've hurt in the past."

"Are you mad?! I can't remember **half** the people I've…"

I release his foot and let him fall for about a second. Then I quickly grab him again with my other hand before he can fall any farther. The shock of it sends him into a nervous frenzy.

"Next time, I might let you hit the ground depending on how you cooperate. Now start giving me names!"

"Alright! Alright! L-let's see…there was…"

"My hand is slipping."

"Wait! There was…Falcone! And a…a doctor at Arkham!"

"Which doctor?"

"Y-Young! Doctor Young, I believe! And…"

"No one told you to stop."

"I know! I know! Then there was…a police officer!"

"What was his name?"

"Crane…"

I hear an ominous voice behind me. Keeping my grip on Crane's foot, I look behind me to face the speaker. And then, I see him. The Horseman, mounting his horse in front of the aging bell. He speaks again.

"Crane…"

Then, the Horseman kicks the side of his horse and they start galloping towards us.

_Is he crazy?!_

Thinking fast, I tighten my hold on Crane and try to leap out of the way. But he grabs my cape and holds us both over the side of the tower. Helpless in the Horseman's grasp, I do my best to keep Crane from plummeting to his death. The rider speaks to me while keeping his grip on my cape.

"Release him."

I look down at Crane and see him hopelessly struggling over the crowded streets. Determined to hold on to him, I look back up at the Horseman and give him my response.

"Never…"

All of a sudden, I feel something in my belt. I look back down and see Crane rummaging through my gadgets.

"Crane! What…"

Before I can stop him, he pulls out a smoke bomb and throws it up at the Horseman. The impact of the bomb exploding causes the man and his horse to fall off the roof, along with me and Crane. As we quickly approach the ground, I grab Crane and launch a line from my grappling hook. It latches onto a streetlight and allows us to safely land on the pavement below. The second I start to retract the line, Crane tries running away. But I instinctively grab his arm and pull out a small pair of handcuffs from my belt. I use it to cuff our arms together so he can't get away.

While Crane struggles to get out of the handcuffs, I hear a series of labored breaths coming from behind me. I turn around and see a long trail of blood. I follow the trail with my eyes and discover the origin of the blood; the Horseman's horse, lying on the ground with its rider looking over it. The Horseman lays on his knees while gently stroking the animal's dark mane. For a moment, he silently gazes at the gruesome sight before him. And then, he reaches into his pockets and pulls out his sword. As the animal lies on the ground, painfully struggling to stay alive, its master stands up, positions his sword, and stabs it through the head, quickly, silently ending its misery.

After killing his horse, the Horseman puts away his sword, and turns around to face me and Crane. All we can do is stand there and watch as he slowly approaches us. He stops in front of us, looks directly at Crane, and speaks once more with his raggedy voice.

"Killer. That is what you are. A heartless killer who must be punished."

I try to get between them.

"He **will** be punished. I'll make sure that…"

"NO!"

He gets right in my face.

"You are weak. You preserve the lives of the sinful. You have the power to end their reigns of destruction, and yet you refuse to do so. You run around pretending to be a hero, when in reality you are nothing more than a feeble, cowardly fool. Even more so than Crane."

"What's that supposed to…"

I interrupt Crane before he makes things worse.

"I'm not letting you kill Crane."

He stares at me for a solid five seconds, and then motions toward his sword.

"I am afraid that is entirely out of your control."

I prepare myself for the Horseman's next move. But suddenly, I see a tall, dark figure land a few feet behind him. The Horseman looks at the figure in surprise. And then, he is followed by a group of similar-looking men that encircle us. I notice that they're all wearing black cloaks and carrying sharp swords. Three of the men in front of us move to the side and allow a taller figure with a hooded cloak to approach us. The man speaks directly to the Horseman with a refined British accent.

"Tsk tsk. Must you be so impetuously stubborn?"

The Horseman replies in a frustrated tone.

"Will you **never** leave me alone?"

"Will **you** never allow us to alleviate you of your bothersome lacerations?"

"Not until my mission is complete."

"The man you call Crane will perish, I assure you."

"No! **I** must be the one to end his life!"

The other swordsmen begin to approach the Horseman.

"My apologies, old chap. But my master has requested that you be apprehended immediately."

The Horseman pulls out his sword and charges through the guards. I continue to protect Crane while the struggle plays out before us. Eventually, the Horseman manages to escape from the hooded man and his followers.

Once his target is gone, the hooded man walks up to us and lifts up his hood. I immediately recognize his chiseled face and black hair.

"Greetings, Bruce. It has been a while, has it not?"

_Ebeneezer Darrk._

Suddenly, I feel a blunt blow to the back of my head and fall to the ground. Trying to stay conscious, I hold myself up on the pavement and look up at Darrk. He looks pleased with himself.

"Sorry, old boy. Nothing personal. Just protocol."

He lifts up his left foot and kicks me in the face. And then…everything goes black.

…


	13. XIII

"He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance."

- Washington Irving

**XIII**

I hear a soft voice.

"Have you exhibited enough relaxation, Bruce?"

My eyelids open slightly, and then close again.

"Here you go, mate. This should arouse you properly."

Suddenly, I sense a strong aroma in my nose. The scent causes me to immediately wake up. My eyes wide open, I see Ebeneezer Darrk leaning in front of me with a smug look on his face. I look down and see a bottle of smelling salts in his hand.

"I apologize for the blow to your noggin. But you must understand that we had to subdue you **somehow**. Otherwise you wouldn't have cooperated."

As Darrk speaks, he walks over to a black armchair across from the red armchair I'm sitting in. I observe my surroundings while he situates himself. I find that I'm in a high-class living room with a lit fireplace, a piano in the corner, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Darrk continues once he gets comfortable in his seat.

"So tell me, Bruce. Did you experience any pleasurable dreams during your slumber?"

"What is this place? Why did you take me here?"

I try to get up from my seat, but I quickly discover that I'm strapped to the chair. Darrk wags his finger at me.

"Ah ah ah. Can't just have you strolling around my private quarters. After all, I **did** just have it refurnished."

I give a small sigh and allow myself to rest in the chair.

"And don't even **think** about using one of those infernal trinkets of yours. My men have confiscated your belt and sealed it in a highly quarantined…"

"Answer my question. Why am I here?"

He gives a slight chuckle and reaches over to his side desk. He picks up a tea kettle and a small tea cup. He answers me as he begins to pour.

"Because we require your assistance."

He finishes pouring and starts sipping from the cup.

"My assistance with what?"

Once he finishes his drink, he puts down the kettle and cup and responds to me in a straight-faced manner.

"The Headless Horseman."

"What are you talking about?"

"You see Bruce, this Horseman we've been pursuing is not as supernatural as he appears to be. He is, in fact, human. His name was Stephen Holland. And he worked for the League of Assassins."

"What?"

"Stephen was a man dead-set in his beliefs. He shared the ideals of my master, Ra's al Ghul, believing that the only way to rid the Earth of crime was to take the lives of criminals. Operating under the guise of a GCPD police officer, he took it upon himself to eliminate the subhuman scum littering Gotham City. And he did so. Admirably. Until he encountered a criminal who finally managed to best him."

He snaps his fingers. A wooden door opens and two assassins throw a large body into the center of the room. It's Crane, bound and gagged in thick ropes. Darrk motions towards Crane as he struggles on the floor.

"**This** is the man who took Stephen Holland's life."

"Crane?"

He tries yelling something to me, but the rope over his mouth muffles his speech.

"You see, Stephen was utterly **obsessed** with Dr. Crane, pursuing him and his patients for weeks on end. Eventually, he had the doctor cornered. But he caught him off-guard with his accursed gas, and then used a scythe to slice his neck, severing his skull from his spine and effectively decapitating him. And as if **that** was not enough, Crane decided to set his body aflame and leave him for dead."

He sighs.

"Who would have predicted that an exemplary assassin like Stephen would fall victim to such…vermin."

Crane yells something to Darrk, but Darrk kicks him in the face.

"Once we learned of Stephen's fate, we immediately retrieved his mangled body. Our doctors discovered that his brain was still active despite being severed from his spine. We took this opportunity to save his life."

"How?"

"The only way one could **ever** be brought back from such a hopeless state; the Lazarus Pit. We were mildly concerned since Stephen had never been in contact with Lazarus before, but there was no other option. His dying body was soaked in the Pit, and he emerged from it in the same way that the great Ra's al Ghul emerged from his first trip to the Lazarus Pit. Healed, but in a state of madness. Though his insanity lessened as time went on, it most definitely affected his perception. Throughout his recovery, Stephen went on about how his near-decapitation was a sign, and that he was destined to kill Crane. We managed to keep him contained for about a week or two, but he eventually escaped on one of the League's trained horses. Ever since then, I've been tasked with tracking him down and returning him to Ra's al Ghul."

"And now he's killing off Crane's patients one by one."

"I've heard as much. And judging by the way he was handling you two earlier, I would say he's finally going after the source."

"And you saved him?"

"Under normal circumstances, Dr. Crane here would have been executed immediately. But for the moment, he is of use to us. As are you, Bruce…"

Suddenly, he begins to cough. His once perfect skin starts to shrivel up as he hacks uncontrollably. I see his black hair and wrinkled skin turning grey as he desperately reaches into his cloak. He pulls out a small needle-tipped vial of green liquid. Sticking the needle in his arm, he allows the fluid to enter his veins. And then, almost as soon as it began, the rapid aging begins to cease. His cough goes away, his skin smoothens out, and his grey hair returns to its vibrant black sheen. After putting the vial away, he looks back up at me and casually continues speaking.

"I sincerely wish you had not seen that, old boy. The effects of the Lazarus Pit are miraculous, but not permanent. And so I like to have a little bit of Lazarus on my person at all times. Just in case."

"Lazarus is an addictive chemical, Darrk. Once you start using it, you can't live without it."

He pauses for a moment, and then regains his train of thought.

"So anyhow, like I was saying, you and the doctor here are very much of use to us."

"How so?"

"Stephen Holland wishes only to slay Dr. Crane, correct? So…why don't we allow him to do so?"

"Hrrmm?!"

Crane audibly shouts in horror. Darrk looks over to his assassins and snaps his fingers. They quickly undo the rope around Crane's mouth.

"Do you have something to assert for us, Dr. Crane?"

His mouth unbound, Crane makes his displeasure known.

"You're just going to let him kill me?! Are you insane?! How is that going to…"

"With all due respect doctor, I must ask that you cease your inane prattling and allow me to finish. Now, as I was explaining earlier, I have planned out a trap for the Headless Horseman. My assassins will pose as a group of thugs being led by Dr. Crane. They will stage an attack on Gotham City Hall and attract as much attention as possible. Then, once the Horseman arrives to strike down his victim, we will dispose of our facades and confront Stephen together."

"Including **me**, I assume?"

"Why, of course, Bruce. Despite your lack of affiliation with the League, you are still an exemplary fighter."

"I've fought the Horseman one-on-one before. Defeating him won't be easy."

"I realize that. After all, I **was** the one who trained him."

He lightly chortles to himself.

"Maybe instead of kissing your own ass, you could finish untying me sometime today?!"

Darrk looks down at an agitated Crane.

"Oh relax, will you? You will be freed from your restraints once we have the specifics of the plan finalized."

He looks back up at me.

"And until then Bruce, I recommend that you prepare yourself. Because by the stroke of midnight tonight, we will be directly in the Horseman's line of attack. But no pressure, of course."

_Fighting alongside Scarecrow and the League of Assassins. This should be interesting._

…


	14. XIV

"They harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing school…broke into the school-house at night…and turned every thing topsy-turvy…"

-Washington Irving

**XIV**

"I apologize for the delay."

I listen to Darrk through my cowl as I sit on top of the Gotham City Hall building.

"How much longer will I be waiting?"

"Not **much** longer, I'd say. Crane and the assassins should be arriving within the hour."

"It's 11:30. The council meeting is almost over."

"I know, I know. Just try to have faith, old friend."

I roll my eyes and see the full moon behind the dark clouds.

"No guns, right?"

"None that are loaded. Just empty ones to sell the ruse. I assure you, Bruce. No civilians in the Hall will be injured."

"Good."

"The participants should be in a grey armored truck heading for your location. Just sit tight for now until the ambush commences."

He hangs up.

_The council is finishing up in there. They'd better get here soon._

Ten minutes go by, and I see a grey truck approaching the City Hall.

_Is that the assassins?_

The truck stops in front of the building and opens up in the back. And then, a swarm of black-cloaked gunmen file out of the truck and storm the Hall entrance.

_Here we go…_

I stand up and look behind me. There's a small trap door on the roof leading to the inside of the building. I lift up the door and crawl inside. Then I let myself fall down into one of the Hall's ventilation shafts. It's barely lit inside the narrow air duct. So I reach into my cowl and switch on the night vision. Trying to be quiet, I start slowly making my way through the shaft on my hands and knees. I listen through the metal walls around me and hear screams coming from below. Eventually, I reach a small ventilation door. I look through the slits and see the chaos happening inside the Hall. The gunmen are holding the councilmen hostage, while the civilians around them run out in a panic. Suddenly, I see a tall, lanky man in brown clothes approach the thugs. He stands in the middle of them and pulls out a megaphone. Then, with everyone watching, he loudly makes his demands.

"People of Gotham! I, the Scarecrow, have taken your city council hostage! If you wish for me to spare their lives, then I must receive no less than fifty million dollars! And if not, then I shall slaughter them without mercy! And scatter their body parts across this vile city!"

_Let's hope the Horseman heard that._

For a solid five minutes, the building is dead silent. Everyone waits with baited breath for someone to make a move against Crane. The guards and civilians stay outside to avoid the possible massacre that could occur at any moment. But then, at the peek of the silence, the sound of a window crashing is heard throughout the Hall. Everyone stops. I listen closely. I hear a voice.

"Crane!"

The Headless Horseman, now without a horse, leaps down from the ceiling above and lands in the center of the group of thugs. Crane jumps back in horror and drops the megaphone. And as the Horseman goes to claim his prize, the assassins drop their guns and pull out their swords.

_That's my cue._

As the Horseman pulls out his own sword, I kick the door off the ventilation shaft and jump down from above. I use my cape to glide over to the group of assassins and land just a few feet away from them. I look up and see the council members running for safety. Crane is heading towards the back of the room as the assassins make their stand. I run over towards the ensuing fight and prepare to be the last line of defense. Sure enough, the Horseman starts cutting down swordsman after swordsman with ease. And the next thing I know, I see him going after Crane. Almost instinctively, I leap forward and stand right in the Horseman's path. He rears his sword and goes for a quick stab, but I move to the side and try to land a punch on him. He grabs my fist with his other hand and plunges his sword through my injured leg. The sharp blade pierces through the metal brace like paper. I scream in agony as blood starts flooding from the opened wounds. The Horseman kicks my chest and I helplessly fall to the ground. Still in shock from the immense pain, I see him stand over me with his foot on top of my chest. He leans down and ruggedly speaks right to my face.

"You are a fool…"

He stands back up and prepares his sword for the final strike.

"Ahem!"

Suddenly, the Horseman stops and turns around to face the voice coming from behind him. I lift up my head, squint my eyes, and see Ebeneezer Darrk standing right there.

"I believe you have done **enough** damage for one evening. Don't you think?"

For a brief moment, the Horseman stares down his old master. And then, with his sword bared, he charges him head on. Darrk quickly pulls out his own sword and meets his opponent in battle. I try to examine my leg as they fiercely duel one another.

"You will not keep me from my destiny!"

"Listen to yourself, Stephen! You speak like a madman!"

"I am **not **mad!"

"Those who are mad **never **admit to their own madness!"

"Silence!"

Their swords collide and bounce off each other like rubber. I look over the broken brace around my leg and try to seal it up. I manage to remove some of the extra plates and carefully place them over the exposed gashes.

_That should contain the bleeding for now…_

Meanwhile, Darrk starts to get the upper hand in the fight. He counters all of the Horseman's attacks, and then, once his guard is weakened, kicks him back and swipes his sword at him. The strike leaves a deep gash across the Horseman's chest. The Horseman steps back and holds his chest as green, Lazarus-ridden blood pours from the wound. He looks back up at Darrk and angrily bellows at him.

"DAMN YOU!"

Enraged and exhausted, the Horseman throws his sword straight at me. Darrk quickly leaps toward me and grabs the blade right before it strikes my head. While Darrk helps me up, the Horseman grabs Crane and begins leaving the building. We go after him as he mows down all of the assassins in his way. While he escapes through the emergency exit, I see Crane struggling in his captor's grasp. I have no choice but to push on through the searing pain in my leg as Darrk and I chase them down.

_You're not killing him…I won't let you!_

…


End file.
